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“Fuck off, asshat! If you actually knew how to eat pussy, I wouldn’t be walking out on your dumb ass, now would I?”

A beer bottle shattered on the wall next to my head and I turned to give the finger to a pencil-dicked club member that thought he had the balls to fuck the Prez’ daughter. Needless to say, I wasn’t very impressed with his package or skills. After a week of pretending like we were anything more than fuck buddies, our last drunken encounter led to Jeremy slipping his dick inside one of the heel-locks that liked to run around pretending they’re big girls. I caught him with his pants around his ankles in the bathroom with a bitch bent over a toilet. After laughing my ass off to see their shocked expressions, I kicked out with one foot, pushing him farther inside her. His hips bucked forward and her makeup lathered face dunked into the bowl.

That scene is what led me to this moment. I was packing what little shit I had and hoofing it over to my girl’s place so I wouldn’t have to deal with the lecture I’d be getting from my father about fucking his ‘brothers’. He was the President of the Dominion MC. I’d been raised running around a club, clutching the skirt of my mother who was the only woman who could command respect from the dickwads my father referred to as his crew. She was like the den mother to a fucked up group of wayward Boy Scouts; men who refused to acknowledge society and its uptight expectations. They lived hard, drank hard and rode hard. It was their life, it was my father’s life and because I was born to a woman who had fallen in love with a bad man, it was my life.

I’d been given the same respect as my mom when I was growing up. She was always referred to as ‘The Saint’ and I was her ‘Baby Girl’. I’d spent years on the shoulders of men, who combined, had killed more men than could be counted. They bounced me around like I was their own kid and every once in a while, my father would ride back into town and bounce me around as well. They were great years … until my mom died.

Ovarian cancer is a bitch and at 20 years old, I was driving her to the oncologist’s office and sitting with her through her doctor’s appointments and eventual chemo treatments while her old man was busy fucking some club slut back home. On one particular appointment, the good doctor told me that my mom had contracted HPV, which led to her cancer. I hated my father almost instantly and knew it was his dirty dick that infected her. She’d never been with anybody else, but sex to him wasn’t any more personal than a hug you would give a stranger. If it had two legs, breasts and a cunt, he was all over it.

When I watched my mother’s body dropped into the ground with about 200 bikers standing around the hole, I wished she’d made better choices. Sure, had she married a normal man, I probably wouldn’t be alive, but she deserved so much better than she got. She was a bright light in the middle of hell. Even though the atmosphere wasn’t normal, she was a stay at home mom. She homeschooled me and taught me to swim, ride a bike, bake and cook. She taught me about the birds and bees and walked me through the horrifying day I started my period. She was ‘normal’ and I don’t understand how she ended up with a man as sleazy as my dad.

It seemed like everything changed the minute I threw the first fistful of dirt on her casket. My dad stopped coming around and the boys in the club expected me to take over my mom’s duties. Sure, I could cook the hell out of just about anything, but it didn’t mean I should continue slaving in the kitchen for a bunch of assholes that had nothing better to do than drink and stare at my tits. Fuck them. As soon as I stopped tending to them, I became another club slut in their eyes and the respect I’d earned growing up in the hellhole they called a club disappeared. The only time they didn’t try to lift my skirt was when my dad was around, slapping their hands away. It wasn’t that he was worried about my honor or virtue. He just didn’t like to hear about how his ‘Baby Girl’ gave the best blowjob in town.

Bikers were loose lipped when they drank and sometimes they liked to joke with the old man about my talents when they sucked down a few too many cold ones. Even after he left one of the brothers without a left eye, they still didn’t learn their lesson about exchanging fuck stories involving his little girl.

Maybe I reminded him of my mother. I mean, I looked just fucking like her with my long brown hair and double d tits. I had her grey eyes and her cheekbones. My skin was sun kissed like hers and my body was a nice hourglass that wasn’t too big and wasn’t too small. I often wondered if he forgot who I was on the nights where he actually defended me to his brothers. It sure as hell didn’t last once he was sober. For that reason, I spent the better part of my days holed up in my room reading or practicing my poker shark skills online. I could take any motherfucker in three hands and I wondered if it was time to start trying my luck in Vegas.

Every day I dreamed of dumping this life to go out and forge my own path. But with barely a high school education and no work experience, I knew I wouldn’t get a good paying job unless I wanted to flash my tits to drunken executives at the local strip joint. And that wasn’t going to happen.

“My father’s going to kick your ass for this, Jeremy! You know how he feels about his brothers fucking his little girl!”

“Bitch! Fuck off! If he kills me, he’ll have to take out five more motherfuckers around here. Now drop your fucking pants and get back in here. I’ll let you suck my cock before shoving it up your ass.” Rolling my eyes at his statement, I slammed the door behind me as I walked out into the bright sunlight. My backpack of clothes hung heavily on my shoulder as I hoofed it to my shitty Toyota Tercel. It was a red piece of shit that had rust stains and holes all through it, but it was mine. It got me from point A to point B and back again. That was all that mattered.

Fishing the keys out of my cut off jean shorts, I fiddled with the lock to the trunk, eventually lifting the lid to chuck in my bag. A shadow flashed across the stained carpet and before I could turn to look, my head was being shoved inside.

I bucked back with my body, opening my mouth to scream only to end up with a mouthful of mildewed carpet. My attacker’s feet were planted on either side of mine and his weight came down over me, holding me in position. I reached around to swing, but felt the blade of a knife at the back of my neck almost instantly. I stilled and turned my head as much as I could.

“Jeremy, you son of a bitch, this isn’t fucking funny. I’ll fucking kill you when you let me go!” Kicking backwards, I caught him in the shins, only to feel the knife pull away and his weight lift off me. I attempted to push myself up but was forced back down when the trunk lid slammed down hard in the center of my back. A scream escaped my lungs when the jolting pain shot down my spine and into my legs. When the hood lifted again, the knife was placed strategically over my carotid and his mouth was by my ear.

“Listen, you little bitch. I don’t know who this Jeremy fuck is and I don’t fucking care. But, I can promise you, if you fight against me again, I’ll drag you away from this parking lot, fuck you until you can’t see straight and then cut your fucking throat when I’m done. Do you understand, beautiful? Go ahead, kick back again. I wouldn’t mind getting my dick wet.”

Every bit of fight in me was suddenly lost. The unfamiliar voice scattered my thoughts and left me with the dirty realization that whoever was holding me down wasn’t someone I knew.

After I remained still, he laughed. I could feel his chest vibrate against my back and his dick harden in his pants. “Guess I won’t be getting a piece after all. It’s a shame.” Placing his free hand on my tit, he squeezed and I grit my teeth trying to force away my instinctual need to protect myself.

“Damn, baby. You are built like a brick shithouse.”

I knew better than to go up against a steel blade. I’d seen enough men spill their blood trying to fight against it and I learned quickly that being unarmed in a knife fight was the same as asking for death.

“So this is how things are going to go down between us. You’re going to climb in the trunk and I’m going to close this lid after you get done telling me where the fuck the keys are. After that, I’m going to drive you far enough away that nobody can see me when I pull you out and place you in the car. I don’t want to kill you, baby, so I’ll be nice and let you ride in the back. However, if you scream or if you fight, you’ll be shoved back in the trunk for the rest of the ride. Here’s the thing: in this heat, I don’t think you’ll survive it. So are we good? You going to follow instructions like a good little girl or are we going to see if you can handle living without oxygen?”

I nodded my head, completely torn between fighting back and the realization that I wouldn’t live. My father always told me that if a man attacked me in public, I was supposed to fight no matter what type of weapon he had pointed at me. He’d said that death would be a lot more pleasant than being dragged off and tortured before death came anyway. I’d always believed that I could follow his advice if the situation ever presented itself. However, now that it was here, I couldn’t bring myself to fight. I was too afraid of death, too scared that my life would end in the parking lot of a roach-infested apartment complex after being ridden by a useless dick.

“Good. Now climb in, nice and easy. Don’t turn your head to look at me. You can use those beautiful lips to tell me where I can find the keys.” His voice was gritty and I could tell almost immediately that he’d probably spent a lot of time fucking up his vocal chords by sucking down unfiltered Camels.

“They’re in my pocket. Front right.”

“That a girl. See, when we play nice, things don’t have to be so bad, do they?” His large hand released my tit and he slid it down my abdomen, his fingers brushing between my legs before sliding right and slipping in my pocket. My body jerked against him and his resulting laugh sounded criminal. He was enjoying the fear, feeding off it.

The keys jingled as he pulled them free from my pocket and his hand pushed against my back, forcing me into the trunk. I turned my head just in time to see the emerald green of his eyes flash in the sunlight as the lid was slammed down above me.